


I'm Just a Notch in Your Bedpost (But You're Just a Line in a Song)

by celeste9



Series: A Series of Encounters [3]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Primeval
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Crossover, Flirting, M/M, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-14
Updated: 2014-06-14
Packaged: 2018-02-04 14:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1781980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celeste9/pseuds/celeste9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becker enjoys a good challenge, but Agent Ward turns out to be something entirely different. (spoilers for AoS season 1 finale)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Just a Notch in Your Bedpost (But You're Just a Line in a Song)

**Author's Note:**

> This has spoilers for the season 1 finale of AoS, starting right here with this note. I realized that I'm not capable of writing a purely fun, smutty Ward fic, and haven't been since the big reveal, which came even before I posted the first fic in this series. So this likely isn't the Becker/Ward those of you who asked for Becker/Ward were expecting, unless you don't read the ending. I can't imagine Becker reacting well to the whole Hydra thing, hence the ending. 
> 
> The title is from Fallout Boy. For 'hate' on my Primeval bingo card.

“This is starting to feel familiar,” Becker said, pinning Ward’s wrists to the mat.

Ward bucked his hips, trying to throw Becker off, and made a frustrated sound. “Give me a second,” he said, his breathing just a little bit quick. “I’ll have you on your back where you belong.”

“Oh, really?” Becker arched an eyebrow. “Seems to me you must like it on the bottom. Why else would you end up there so often?” He leaned his weight farther forward as Ward twisted his wrists in an attempt to free them.

The bucking of Ward’s hips was starting to feel a trifle too nice, but Becker could tell he wasn’t the only one who thought so. “Tough talk, pretty boy,” Ward ground out from between his teeth. His eyes were dark and intense.

Becker smiled, rocking his hips deliberately.

Ward hissed.

“Give up yet?”

“Fuck you.”

“Tut tut, Agent Ward. Watch that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Rather watch yours,” he said, and Becker laughed, surprised.

“All right,” said Agent May, pushing herself off from where she had been leaning against the wall and watching. “I’m starting to feel like a chaperone and clearly neither of you want a chaperone.”

Ward writhed a little underneath Becker, startling him enough that Becker loosened his grip. Ward used the opening to flip their positions.

Becker landed on his back with a thud. “Bugger,” he said, gazing up at Ward.

Ward grinned down at him and then rolled easily off to the side. “You could always join us,” he said to May.

Becker eased himself up onto his elbows and looked from Ward to May. It struck him that Ward was propositioning May for the both of them.

He gave May a lingering once-over. He wasn’t opposed to it.

May, though, was only giving them that flat, barely amused expression that Becker was coming to realise was likely her default. “Maybe next time,” she said. “Have fun, boys. Ward... I’ll see you when I see you.”

“What was that?” Becker asked Ward, once May’s footsteps had faded away.

Ward climbed to his feet, stretching his arms overhead in what was clearly a deliberate tease. “Agent May and I have an arrangement.”

“And she doesn’t mind if you seek an additional arrangement elsewhere?”

Ward was smirking. “Did it look like she minded?”

Fair enough. Becker remained where he was on the mat, watching Ward watch him. “So, rematch?”

“Not exactly what I was thinking.” Ward knelt down on the floor, leaning into Becker’s space. It felt like he was radiating heat, his body like a furnace.

Becker’s breath ghosted over Ward’s skin as he spoke. “I might have an idea of something else we could try.”

-

Ward was silent the entire drive to Becker’s flat. He was silent in the car park and he was silent as they walked through the halls.

When Becker set down his keys and switched on the lights in his flat, Ward shoved him back against the door and kissed him.

For a few (long, enjoyable) moments, Becker just went with it, appreciating that Ward was turning out to be good at everything he did. Then he started to push back.

Because Becker was good at everything he did, too, and there was nothing he liked better than winning.

He slid his hands up underneath Ward’s t-shirt, feeling smooth skin and lean muscles. He tilted his hips just so, rubbing a little, making Ward’s breath stutter. It was but the work of a few seconds to spin them, so that it was Ward’s back slammed up against the wall.

“Want a drink or something?” Becker asked, mouthing over Ward’s jaw. “Beer?”

“You don’t have to get me drunk first.”

“I’m just trying to be a considerate host.”

“You don’t have to be considerate at all,” Ward said, and bit Becker’s collarbone hard enough to hurt.

It felt better than it probably should have. Ward started pressing forward, walking Becker into the living room.

Becker let him, only because it made it easier to drag Ward onto the sofa and shove him down. Becker climbed on top of him, resting his palm on Ward’s chest.

Ward was grinning. “See, that wasn’t very considerate at all. I like it.”

“I like it better when you don’t talk,” Becker said, and leaned forward to capture Ward’s mouth in a searing kiss.

-

Becker woke up to a view of Ward’s tanned skin, his long, toned back. The sheets were pooled around his hips, revealing just a hint of the curve of his arse. It wasn’t a bad view.

He was aching in places that hadn’t seen a lot of use recently and it felt like he hadn’t slept at all. It still seemed like a fair trade.

Ward shifted, and Becker realised that he wasn’t asleep. He stretched out on his stomach, turning his head so he could peer at Becker. “Morning.”

“Your hair’s messed up,” Becker said, a tad smugly, reaching out to mess it up more.

“So’s yours,” Ward said, grabbing Becker’s wrist. He rolled onto his back and yanked Becker on top of him.

“Oh, good morning,” Becker said, slyly rubbing against Ward’s groin.

Ward’s eyes darkened and his lips parted, but he didn’t make a sound. Instead he grabbed hold of Becker’s hips, stilling him, before wedging his knee up to knock Becker onto his back.

“Oof,” Becker said. He thought he really should have kept a running tally of how many times each of them swapped positions. He was certain he would be in the lead.

Straddling Becker’s hips, Ward said, “Bet I can make you come again before breakfast.”

“I have to be at the ARC in an hour.”

“Challenge accepted,” Ward said, and kissed Becker’s stomach.

-

After the S.H.I.E.L.D. team left, Becker didn’t think about Ward again until the news broke about Hydra.

Jess was the first to see it. They all huddled around her station and watched the footage, scathing news reports and Captain America and some bloke with a metal arm and a veritable ton of explosions. It reminded Becker of watching that thing with the Avengers and the aliens, only it was worse this time. This time he could put faces to the people involved. Lester’s _daughter_ was out there.

“I hope they’re all right,” Jess said.

Lester’s face was pinched and white and he never said anything at all.

-

“I’ve just seen Skye,” Jess said over the phone.

Becker straightened up against the back of his sofa. “What?”

“Skye. She came to see me. Coulson was bringing Jemma to see Lester.”

Coulson was probably bringing himself to see Lester, too, Becker knew. “Are they okay?”

Jess hesitated. “Physically, yes. Mostly. Fitz is... Well, Fitz is not very good.”

Fitz. Becker had liked Fitz. He reminded Becker of Connor, cheerful and talkative and too bloody smart for his own good.

“Becker... Skye said that Ward was a traitor.”

Becker squeezed his thigh, digging his fingers in. “Ward was what?”

“He was a traitor. He was Hydra. He tried to kill them. He killed a lot of people, good people.”

That couldn’t be right. Ward was kind of arrogant and full of himself, but he wasn’t a _traitor._ He was an assassin but he wouldn’t kill - He wouldn’t. There had to be some sort of mistake. “Hydra. Like, the Nazis? That Hydra?”

“I think that’s the only Hydra there is.”

Becker felt sick. “Is he dead?”

“No. Agent May took him down, and now he’s been locked away.”

Agent May. Becker felt his lips curve into something that was sort of a smile. May was a damn good fighter. He would say this for S.H.I.E.L.D., they knew how to train their people.

He remembered Ward saying that he and May had an arrangement. He wondered how badly May had hurt Ward when she was bringing him down and how much of that was because of their ‘arrangement’.

Jess was talking still, like she couldn’t stop herself. “He locked Simmons and Fitz in a... a box, some sort of small compartment, and pushed them into the ocean.”

Becker swore. He thought it was lucky for Ward that Lester hadn’t been there. He would have blown Ward’s brains out without a second thought.

Jess’ voice was soft and nervous-sounding. “Becker, didn’t you and Ward...” She trailed off.

“Yeah,” Becker said. “Doesn’t matter.” He hung up, gazing at the wall in front of him.

It didn’t matter, right? It didn’t matter. It hadn’t meant anything. Becker had known what he was doing. He had used Ward as much as Ward had used him and all it had ever been supposed to be was sex.

Only it did matter, and apparently Becker hadn’t known what he was doing at all.

Becker had fucked a Nazi. He wondered what that made him.

He wondered what it said about him that he hadn’t even been able to tell.

He hoped May had got in a good hit for him, too.

**_End_ **


End file.
